Tales From the MCU
by TheBritAvenger
Summary: An ongoing series of one-shots set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, featuring all sorts of characters. Will hopefully feature characters from all corners of the Marvel Cinematic Universe at some point. Rated T for safety.
1. Religious Experience

**Religious Experience**

Steve Rogers gently pushed open the rusty door into the church. He coughed as dust particles were thrown up in his face, and rubbed his eyes. The door creaked aside, and opened to reveal a church congregation seated along several narrow pews. They seemed not to notice Steve, their attention instead focused on Father Lantom as he read out an extract from the gospel of St Matthew.

Steve walked down the aisle looking for a seat. Most of the pews were full, but he found an empty space next to the aisle in the middle of the church. He sat down, and attempted to focus on the sermon. However, his mind was so scattered that he found it near impossible.

Steve was still disturbed by the Ultron incident 2 months prior, and he was well aware that it was affecting him greatly. He barely slept anymore, as every time he shut his eyes, he started hearing people screaming for their lives and the awful, mechanical whine that heralded the arrival of the monstrosity named-

'You come here often?'

Steve was startled by the voice, and yelped slightly louder than he should have. This earned him a disapproving look from an old woman sitting in front of him. He smiled weakly at her, and she turned around. He looked around for the source of the voice, and found it- a man sitting next to him, who he hadn't been focused enough to notice.

The man was tall, with well-kept auburn hair and circular red sunglasses covering his eyes. He was wearing a navy-coloured suit, with a red and white striped tie and a white shirt. He looked at Steve with a mixture of confusion and friendliness. Steve shook his head.

'Sorry about that,' he said. 'I didn't see you there.'

The man laughed. 'It's okay,' he said. 'I guarantee I didn't see you.'

Steve was confused by this. Then he noticed something- a cane was leaning next to the man against the wooden pew. He connected the dots in his brain- sunglasses, cane, he wouldn't have seen him…

'Are you-' he began.

'Blind?' the man said, cutting off Steve before he could finish. Steve was surprised by his admission. 'It's okay. You don't have to worry. I've gotten used to it.'

Steve looked away from the man and towards Father Lantom, who had moved on to the second Bible reading. Steve's jarred memory told him it was from Exodus.

'You never answered my question,' the man told Steve. Steve replied without turning around to face him.

'I try to,' he answered. 'But I've been busy lately.'

'I know the feeling,' the man replied. He turned around and extended his hand to Steve. 'The name's Matt Murdock.' Something sparked in Steve's brain. He recognised the name- Matt Murdock had been named in the New York Times as one of the people who had played an instrumental role in taking out the philanthropist turned crime lord Wilson Fisk. Having read about what Fisk had done, and the crimes he'd been charged with, he knew at once that this man was someone he could trust. He shook Matt's hand.

'Steve Rogers,' he told him. Matt was rather taken aback at this. He processed this for a few seconds, and then replied.

'I had no idea I was in the company of an Avenger,' he said. 'I'm honoured.'

Steve turned back to face Father Lantom. 'I hear there's a lot of people who would feel very differently. The Avengers haven't exactly been flavour of the month since the Ultron incident. We're still operating, but we've been forced to go mostly underground. I hear the government seized Avengers Tower. God knows what they're doing with it now.' Matt seemed surprised at Steve's words.

'You know, for a man who's supposed to embody American optimism, you do seem pretty upset,' Murdock commented.

Steve sighed heavily. 'You know, when they first made me- when I volunteered for a bunch of lab coats to jack me up on god-knows-what and zap me with vita rays- the world was at war. Countries were turning on each other. Every other day, I'd hear about a guy from the neighbourhood who went off to war and never came back. But even though the world was divided, I felt like there was- and excuse me if this sounds horribly cliché- a sense of unity. The country, and the people, we knew we had a common enemy. Despite the fact that good men were dying, we didn't give up or falter because we felt that we were doing the right thing- that all these fine young men hadn't died for nothing. The Nazis were evil, and everybody knew that. We knew who the enemy was, and because of that, we got behind each other like never before. We all knew that we had the same enemy, and wanted the same thing- to see Adolf Hitler rot in the deepest circle of hell.'

'Is there a point to you telling me all this, or are you just reminiscing?' Matt asked. Steve didn't seem offended by this.

'Yeah. When I woke up, 70 years later, they told me we won the war. They didn't tell me what we lost. We might have won the war, but we lost that sense of unity, that sense of a common enemy. Now, when I look around, sometimes I can't tell who's my friend or foe. I see Americans killing Americans, families turning on each other, communities split by religion or race or ideology, innocent people being scandalized and turned into scapegoats for the media. Sometimes I wish I was back fighting Nazis. At least back then I knew what I was fighting for.'

Matt thought this over for a few seconds, and then replied. 'I think I know what you're talking about. Sometimes you can't tell who or what you're fighting for?'

'Something like that,' Steve replied.

'I know the feeling,' Matt replied. 'I cottoned onto Fisk a while before anyone else did. It was hard enough fighting him when almost nobody knew he even existed, but once he came out of the shadows, it became almost impossible. He had so many people in his back pocket, half the time I couldn't even tell who was on my side. Even the people I trusted started turning on me. I almost gave up at one point. But I realised something.'

'What was that?' Steve asked.

'What I was fighting for. Truth. Fairness. Justice. Freedom. Things that everyone deserves, and things that people like Wilson Fisk wanted to take away from them. That's who the enemy is- the guy trying to take those things away from people who deserve them. And once I realised that, I knew that I had a responsibility to do whatever I could to stop him. Even if it killed me, I knew that I had to try. People like Wilson Fisk try and distort that- try and make us question ourselves- because they know that an uncertain enemy is easy to defeat. That's why you can't afford to be uncertain. If you can't figure out who the enemy is, then first try and figure out who, and what, you're trying to protect. And then do whatever you can to help them, and make the world a better place.'

Steve considered Matt's reply for a while. 'You know, I got a feeling that there's more to your fight against Wilson Fisk than you let on.'

Matt cryptically responded, 'I did everything I could.' Steve didn't have time to respond, as at that moment Father Lantom announced that they would be singing Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer. Matt and Steve grabbed hymn books and began to sing.

* * *

Outside the church, after the service, the pair shook hands as people poured out of the church into the sunny streets of New York City.

'Thanks for your advice, Mr Murdock,' Steve said. 'If I ever need a lawyer, I know who to call.'

'We've been pretty busy as of late, but I'll be sure to make some room if you ever need help,' Matt responded. 'It's the least I can do for you.'

Steve started to walk away, and turned around to say, 'Goodbye!' Matt waved, and Steve walked off, a newfound conviction surging within him.

Matt, standing underneath the shade of a tree, watched Steve walk off. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrating, and a voice saying, 'Foggy. Foggy.' He pulled out his phone, slid a bar to start the phone call and placed it to his ear.

'Hey, it's Matt. What's going on?' he asked.

'We've got trouble. Big trouble,' Foggy replied over the phone.

'What kind of trouble?' Matt asked.

'Fisk trouble,' Foggy replied, his voice gravely serious. Matt hung up he call, hastily stuffed his phone back into his pocket and ran off, his coat trailing behind him.


	2. First Flight

**First Flight**

 _Camp Rhino, Helmand Province, Afghanistan_

Sam Wilson was certain the heat was starting to get to him.

In fairness, he was surprised it had taken this long. The environment at Camp Rhino was barely hospitable. The temperature rarely dropped below 30 degrees, the sunlight was harsh and blinding, the water was warm and tasteless and the dry, rough, arid ground made walking even short distances immensely taxing. Oh, and did he forget to mention the constant threat of attack on all sides from bloodthirsty Taliban fighters who wanted to kill them and feed their rotting corpses to rabid dogs?

Every so often, he'd lie in his bunk and wonder why he'd decided to come out here. Back at home, he had everything going for him. He came out of high school with straight As, and half a dozen universities begging to have him. He could have done just about anything he wanted to, anywhere he wanted to do it. But then he watched the news, and heard all about the horrors happening here, and the innocent people at risk, and he felt something- an overpowering urge to go out there and help people, to do whatever he could. That this- going out there and risking his life to protect people- was what he was meant to do.

And so he'd done it. A few days later, he'd enlisted in the United States Air Force. His parents had protested, as he knew they would. But they'd come over eventually, and even if they hadn't, Sam wouldn't have done any different. Because somehow, he knew that this was his calling, and that this was what he needed to do.

Besides, it wasn't all bad…

Jessica's shot rang out across the empty desert plain. The bullet just whizzed past its mark, flying off into the open. She cursed loudly as the silver can she had been trying to hit was overcome by gravity and plummeted towards the desert floor, hitting it with a loud clang.

The others all cheered in mock applause as she trudged back to the group, who were standing just outside one of the barracks.

'And that's another lame duck for Jessie!' announced Riley, a tall, square-jawed alpha male with frizzy hair that didn't suit his athletic build. Jessica re-joined the crowd as Riley scribbled a zero onto a whiteboard in marker pen, in a table with several names and columns on it.

'Alright, who's next… Sam Wilson!' he shouted loudly. Sam stepped out of the crowd and faced Riley. 'You're up!'

Sam walked forwards, and calmly pulled his gun out of his belt. Another soldier, an Asian man with bad breath that Sam could have smelt from a mile away, carried an empty fizzy drink can to the start line. Sam pointed his gun in the air.

Riley started a countdown. '5, 4, 3…' Sam's finger curled up on the trigger. As soon as he shouted '1!', the Asian man with bad breath hurled the can into the air. Sam let it fly for a second, and then pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded out of his gun, soared through the air and hit the can dead centre, punching a hole through it and making it spin wildly before plummeting to the ground.

The crowd cheered, and Wilson threw his hands in the air.

'Woohoo! Another one on the board for Wilson!' he shouted. Riley sighed, and tallied up one more score in Sam's column on the table. Sam sat down again, and watched as a woman with short cropped hair stood up to have her go. Suddenly, he heard a gruff, masculine voice shout 'Hey Wilson!'

He stood up, and turned around to face the origin of the shout. A man in his early 60s wearing green and brown army uniform and sturdy combat boots was standing about 10 metres away from their competition. Wilson called out to him.

'Yes sir?' he asked.

'Hope you aren't too busy. They want you over at HQ.' Sam was puzzled by this.

'You gonna tell me why?' he asked, before hastily adding, 'sir.'

'Get your ass over here and you might find out!'

The car trundled along the dusty desert road. Sam sat next to the old man, who had his eyes fixed intently on the road ahead. He had been silent for most of the journey, but he summoned the courage to ask the general a question.

'So where are we going exactly?' he asked.

'You'll see,' the general replied, with a tone that indicated he wasn't open to questions. Sam turned around, and squinted. Through the dust cloud that they were barrelling through, he could just about make out the shape of a large warehouse a way ahead of them.

A minute or two later, the dust cloud has passed, and the car pulled up outside the warehouse. The old man got out, and Sam emerged after him, looking up at the warehouse. A woman in a lab coat and glasses walked out and shook hands with the general.

'General Talbot,' she said. 'Good to see you.' She noticed Sam, and walked over to him. She extended her hand, and he shook it. 'Sergeant Wilson. It's an honour to meet you. My name is Dr Amanda Bernard, I'm in charge of this facility and this project.'

Sam was confused. 'What project?' Amanda smiled coyly. 'You'll see'.

The trio walked into the facility and into an elevator. As the doors closed, Amanda started to talk.

'I'd like you to know that what you're about to see is extremely classified,' she said. 'You have been specially selected for this program, and as such, you are the only one with the clearance level required to be granted access to the project. If you breathe a word of what you are about to see to anyone outside this facility, you will be discharged from the US Air Force. Understood?'

Sam nodded, feeling rather nervous. 'Of course.' Amanda smiled.

'Good. Then we can get going.'

The elevator opened, and the trio walked out into a large laboratory space. Scientists were rushing around, carrying equipment and test tube vials. The trio reached the end, and Sam saw what they had brought him here to see. At the back of the lab was a set of wings.

They were mechanical, made of metal, cloth and gears. The wings stretched to about 4 meters in diameter, both protruding from a jetpack with three miniature jet engines in the centre.

'May I present the EXO-7 Falcon,' Amanda said. 'The product of half a decade's worth of blood, sweat, tears and test-runs. Lightweight, sturdy, resilient, efficient and revolutionary. We get this project off the ground, soon enough this thing could become standard issue.'

Sam walked up to it and touched it, feeling the fabric of the wings. 'You want me to fly this thing?'

'Well, we can't have these things deployed in action until we can assure the brass that they're safe for use, so yes. You're one of our best pilots, so we thought you'd be the ideal candidate to try it out. You in?'

Wilson didn't even hesitate. 'Oh yes.'

Sam stood on the rooftop as the technicians finished inspecting the jet engines. Amanda and the general stood a few metres away, with Amanda making notes on a clipboard.

The technicians, finally satisfied, stepped back, and Sam stretched his muscles slightly.

'Now, you remember how to activate it, right?' the general shouted.

'Relax, dude,' Sam replied casually. 'I heard you the first eighty times.' He pushed his elbows out and the wings sprung from the pack, extending to their full length. As they sprung out, the jet engines activated, and Sam took off, hovering above the ground. Sam whooped with excitement.

Suddenly, however, he started veering off to the left. He panicked, and pushed his body to the right in an attempt to correct himself. It had the opposite effect- he flew off to the right spinning wildly. He spun around and desperately tried to regain his balance. He reached his arm round the back to see if there was an off switch or something, but this made him spin around in circles, and fly off across the base.

He shouted in panic as he flew off course, desperately trying to stop. He stretched his arms out, and suddenly, he wings on his back flapped, pushing him upwards. He flapped his arms, and the wings did the same thing, pushing him further upwards. Then he realised something- _the wings copied his motions._

He stopped flapping, and held his arms steady. Suddenly, his ascent halted, and he hovered in the air. He pushed his arms forward, and the wings followed suit, making him soar across the compound. Sam cheered, and spun around a few times.

Now that he could control the suit, he decided to have some fun with it. He swooped downwards, and flew over the buildings in the base, watching them blur as he went. He careened downwards, before correcting himself with a jolt, and weaving his way between buildings.

He flew upwards in a spiral, and then flew sideways, the air rushing in his face. He looked down, and could see Amanda and the general watching him. He swooped downwards and landed clumsily on the roof, stumbling before retracting the wings and walking over to them. Amanda smiled at him.

'So, what'd you think?' she asked. Sam gave her a one word reply:

'Awesome.'


End file.
